


Merry Chrismukkah, Ned

by edna_blackadder



Category: Pushing Daisies
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 11:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2810189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edna_blackadder/pseuds/edna_blackadder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck wants this Chrismukkah to be special for Ned, so she asks Emerson to locate his only real friend at the Longborough School for Boys, one Eugene Mulchandani.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Chrismukkah, Ned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sawickies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sawickies/gifts).



> Written for Yuletide 2014. Thanks to S for betaing.

At this very moment in the apartment she shared with Olive Snook, Charlotte Charles was feeling guilty. Everywhere she looked, there were Chrismukkah decorations put in place by the Pie Maker in the hope of that they would make her feel safe, warm, and loved. Charlotte Charles knew that the Pie Maker himself had had little interest in the joyous season ever since his father had abandoned him at the Longborough School for Boys. With nowhere to go during the holidays, young Ned had begun to see them as indistinguishable from every other time of year, except with a little less work and a lot more sadness brought on by envy of other people's frankly aggressive good cheer.

Now that young Ned had grown and become the Pie Maker, however, Charlotte Charles knew that nearly everything he did, he did for her. And so it was that the polished silver menorah that graced her and Olive's kitchen table and the little tree that they had been certain just needed a little love, while respectively gleaming and flourishing in their care, were still hopelessly overshadowed by the displays put in place by the Pie Maker both in his apartment across the hall and at the Pie Hole downstairs.

With these opportunities for gift-giving fast approaching, Chuck found herself wanting to make some grand gesture for the Pie Maker as he so often did for her, but complicating this was the fact that she knew he hated surprises. Her previous attempts to surprise him had all met with at least some degree of resistance, and so she sat at the table in the light of the menorah and the tree in sad contemplation, wishing she could think of the perfect gift. So lost was she in her thoughts that she failed to register that Olive Snook had now been sitting across from her for a full minute, demanding her attention.

“Hello,” Olive sing-songed, “Earth to Chuck! Are you in?”

Chuck blinked. “I'm sorry, Olive. I was miles away. What's going on?”

Olive shook her head in exasperation. “I asked if you wanted to come along shopping with me, and while I admit that my motives were not entirely unselfish as the taxidermy tools on Randy's list sound like they might collectively get a little heavy, I assure you that I am also asking out of genuine concern for that get-me-out-of-the-house vibe you're radiating all over the place.”

Chuck smiled. “No problem. I'm happy to help you carry taxidermy tools for Randy; I just wish I had any idea what to get for Ned.”

“Didn't he ask for a high-tech food processor? Which reminds me, I was going to ask if you already got him that so I could pick something else if need be.”

“Go ahead and get the food processor, Olive. Maybe I'll regret saying that, because at least we know he'll like it, but I want to get him something really romantic and not on his list. Ned always goes big for me, and I feel like now it's my turn to get him something he won't expect and will really love, if only I could think of something.”

“Well,” said Olive, “far be it from me to tell you how to conduct your relationship, but that sounds like dangerous territory. I told Randy in no uncertain terms to stick to the list, and that I will be sticking to his list because as much as I love him, I do not pretend to understand his work.”

“I know you're right,” said Chuck sadly. “But I also know that whatever Ned does for me, I won't expect it and it'll be perfect. Just once I want to return that favor.”

“It sounds like what you're looking for won't be in the store,” said Olive thoughtfully. “Sounds like you're chasing one of those cheesy scenes in the movies where they reunite the hero with his lost love, only you two have already been reunited, so that's not gonna work. And the way Ned talks about his family, only Maurice and Ralston would be even halfway welcome to show up and they're already invited.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of some lost comfort from home, except he reunites himself with his mother's pies every day,” Chuck mused. “He told me he got started baking because he missed her so much in boarding school. I guess he was really lonely there, no friends or anything—wait a minute, that's not right.”

At that moment the light bulb of inspiration blinked on in Charlotte Charles' mind. She recalled that the Pie Maker had vaguely mentioned one friend, one Eugene Mulchandani of Indian origin and voice forever impeded by orthodontic headgear. They had become friends, the Pie Maker had said, as a defence against bullies. That was all he had said, despite Chuck's attempts to push, frustrated as it had seemed she had nearly broken one of many barriers that the Pie Maker had carefully constructed around his past, only to find herself, as always, unable to make more than a tiny dent.

“Ned had this one friend at boarding school,” said Chuck excitedly. “This Indian exchange student called Eugene Mulchandani. I can get Emerson to track down Eugene!”

Olive Snook squinted suspiciously at the gleam in her best friend and roommate's eyes. She had a distinct feeling that this would not turn out well, as in her experience the Pie Maker had never welcomed any attempt to bring back the slightest trace of his past, with the one exception, of course, of Chuck herself. Nonetheless, Olive wanted to support her friend, and she thought, if Eugene Mulchandani were to prove a second exception, it could only do the lonely Pie Maker a world of good. After a moment, Olive nodded.

“Okay, but if this goes south, I still get dibs on the food processor, right?”

*

At this very moment Emerson Cod was enjoying a quiet Sunday afternoon of dim sum with Simone Hundin. Or, as he hoped she would soon be known, Simone Cod. After one year of dating, Emerson knew that he was in love with Simone, and he had intended to propose to her that very afternoon. Little did he know that Charlotte Charles and Olive Snook would be along shortly to foil that plan with a new case, and one that would cost him a lot of time and effort for comparatively little monetary gain. In fact, there would be no money on the table at all.

Emerson gazed deep into Simone's eyes, the sight of her and the taste of succulent cuttlefish proving an intoxicating combination, just enough so to persuade him to reach into his pocket for the little box. But just at that moment, the door burst open. Someday he would remember to lock it, but today, it seemed, was not that day.

“Emerson!” squealed an entirely unwelcome Chuck, flanked by an equally unwelcome Olive. “We need you to help us find Eugene Mulchandani, Ned's only friend from boarding school!”

“Uh-uh,” said Olive warily. “Not we, not us, you and you. I am here because as a friend, I support you, but I'm giving Ned the food processor.”

“Okay, _I_ need you to help me,” Chuck amended. “Oh, hi, Simone. How are you?”

Emerson glared at the two women. “Oh, no, you did not just come busting in here asking me to go rooting around in Pie Boy's past, which he keeps locked up tighter than a drum for reasons his own, which I respect. You wanna pry, you do it on your own time and leave me the hell out of it.”

“Emerson, please!” begged Chuck. “I just really want to give Ned a nice gift this year. He's always doing super-nice things for me and I just want to return the favor. Don't you want to do something special for Simone?”

Emerson wasn't sure he could really glare any harder, but he was certainly determined to try. He glanced at Simone, who looked equal parts amused and expectant. “As a matter of fact, I did have a surprise planned, which you two have just very rudely interrupted. But surprises are tricky business. There's good surprises and there's bad surprises, and while I very much hope that this one will qualify as good, where Pie Boy is concerned? They're all bad. The man wigs out over cup pies and you want to give him a reunion with some old friend he lost touch with, probably for a damn good reason, as a Christmas present? Did you bake your brains into one of them pies?”

Before Chuck could answer, Simone broke in. “While I don't claim to know Ned well enough to predict what he will and will not consider a bad surprise, I feel it's only fair to let you know, Emerson, that I consider it a most displeasing one that you would mention your having one up your sleeve, express annoyance with these two interrupting it and then, rather than postponing this conversation, proceeding to allow the interruption to continue.”

Emerson groaned. This was not even remotely how he had wanted the afternoon to go, but now it seemed, and Simone's clicker only confirmed, that there was no salvaging things. He reached into his pocket with trepidation, but before he could touch the box, Simone gave him a surprise. She laughed.

“Emerson, I would love to be your wife, but I am not changing my name again, so don't even think about it.”

Emerson blinked. His hand found the box and withdrew it from his pocket, and his mouth opened, first unable to form words, and then able to form words but, alas, still without the sophistication required for full sentences. “I—how did you—was that—yes?”

Simone clicked her clicker, opened the box, and slid the ring onto her own finger. “While I know that you are always happy to see me, that was entirely the wrong pocket for it.”

Emerson laughed, and he kissed Simone's hand, and then her lips, and Chuck and Olive, who were themselves only just beginning to recover the power of speech, applauded.

“All right,” said Emerson, when at last he was able to tear his eyes from his new fiancée. “I will go looking for this friend of Pie Boy's, but before he gets invited anywhere, he's got to be vetted, and I will be the one doing the vetting, so you better come up with a backup plan, which you can do while you get your asses out of here.”

“Congratulations, Emerson,” said a beaming Chuck, “and best wishes, Simone. And thank you! Thank you, thank you—”

“You're welcome, and thank you, now scoot,” said Emerson, and Chuck nodded and backed away.

“Congrats!” squeaked a flailing Olive, as she followed Chuck out the door. When they were both gone, Emerson turned back to Simone.

“I love you,” he said to her, and she smiled and squeezed his hand.

“That's good to know, because I love you too.”

*

At this very moment at the Pie Hole, the Chrismukkah Party was in full swing, and Charlotte Charles, Olive Snook, Randy Mann, and Vivian Charles were enthusiastically applauding the illusions of Maurice and Ralston, the Pie Maker's twin half-brothers who had been abandoned by the same father who had once abandoned him. The Pie Maker also applauded, a little less enthusiastically. He had come to love Maurice and Ralston, but he did not think he would ever come to love magic again. Still, he managed a more impressive show of interest than Lily Charles, whose hand remained firmly glued to her tumbler of vodka. Nonetheless, she smiled, which Chuck considered a small victory. She only hoped she could attain the same level of success with Ned.

“More pie,” said Ned quickly, when Maurice and Ralston had finished their private show and the applause had died down a bit.

“More booze,” said Lily, who had still not quite thawed out towards the Pie Maker after the shock that he had kept the secret of her daughter Chuck's miraculously being alive again.

“More pie and more booze,” said Ned, quivering in his boots. Chuck might have been amused, if she had not been worried about the lack of any sign of Emerson, Simone, or Eugene Mulchandani.

“I'll help you get them,” said Chuck, and she followed Ned into the kitchen. “Come on,” she said, once they were safely out of earshot. “Maurice and Ralston worked really hard on that show. Can't you try to be happy for them?”

“I am trying,” said Ned. “This is me, trying to be happy for other people while Lily gives me the angry eye. I'm trying to be happy for you, for Maurice and Ralston, for Olive and Randy, for Vivian, even for Lily who at least didn't bring her shotgun this time, which I guess counts as a small victory, but I'm sorry, I just don't really love this time of year anymore. I love winter, because I get to hold your hand, but the holidays are tough.”

“They're tough for me, too, you know,” said Chuck softly. “I'm thrilled that Lily and Vivian are here, and I am sure that Lily will forgive you eventually. I'm thrilled that I get to spend the holidays with you, my mother, my aunt, your incredible twin half-brothers, my best friend, and the man who loves her as she deserves. But do you think it doesn't bother me that my dad isn't here?”

“I'm sorry,” said Ned, and he was sorry for Chuck, even if, for his own sake, he wasn't sorry at all about the absence of Charles Charles.

“It's okay,” said Chuck, although her face betrayed that it was anything but okay. “I've made my peace with it, at least as much as I'm ever going to be able to make my peace with it. The family we have gathered here tonight is an amazing one, and I'm trying to focus on that. Can you try, too?”

“I am trying,” Ned assured her. “But trying doesn't automatically make one an expert. And on the subject of this group we've gathered, where the hell is Emerson?”

“Oh,” said Chuck. “That, um, that's my fault. He's out doing me a favor. I asked him to find somebody for me.”

“Please say it wasn't your dad, or my dad, or any other disappeared dads,” said Ned. At Chuck's expression, he added hastily, “Trying. Really. Just not very good at it.”

Just then, however, there was a knock on the door. Outside stood Emerson, Simone, Penny, and a tall Indian man whom Ned did not recognize. He wondered if Emerson had found them a client as a Chrismukkah present, and then he wondered whether, given the circumstances, he would consider that a good or a bad thing. He and Chuck headed back out to the front of the restaurant, their hands empty of both pies and vodka.

“Okay, Dead Girl,” said Emerson as he led the group inside. “For once, I gotta hand one to you. This was a good call.”

Chuck beamed, but Ned stared in incomprehension. “What was a good call? What calls are being made without my knowing about them? I'm confused. I don't like confused.”

“Turnabout is fair play,” said Lily with a smirk. The Pie Maker chose to ignore her, as the tall stranger stepped forward.

“Hi, Ned,” he said. “I know I must look different without the headgear.”

Ned opened his mouth, and then closed it, and then opened it again, awestruck. He had not heard from Eugene Mulchandani since that incident when reanimating the hunter had landed them both in jail. He had assumed that their friendship, like everything else in his past, was long dead and buried.

“Eugene,” he said. “Um, hi.”

“I always felt really bad about how things ended,” said Eugene. “My parents pulled me out of school before I could tell you that I knew it wasn't your fault. We moved back to India and they wouldn't even let me write to you.”

Given the circumstances, the Pie Maker thought, that was probably understandable. “It's okay,” said Ned. “Wait a minute, Emerson, did you fly all the way to India to find him?”

Emerson shook his head. “No, fortunately it was easier than that. Eugene came back of his own accord and has been working as a scientist at the local university for the last five years.”

“I never guessed you'd still be around,” said Eugene. “I thought you wanted to be anywhere but here. If I'd known, I'd have stopped by long ago.”

“Have some pie,” said Chuck happily, and Eugene smiled at her. Ned also smiled at her. He clasped his own hand behind his back, imagining that he was holding hers, and he watched as she did the same thing.

“Thank you,” said Ned. “All of you.”

“I'm sure they'll all tell you how welcome you are,” said Lily, “but I'm still waiting for my drink, mister.”

“Right,” said Ned, but even his terrifying mother-in-law could not wipe the smile off of his face at this moment. “Be right back.”


End file.
